


The Black Diamonds

by vegraptor



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 80s AU, F/M, Humanstuck, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegraptor/pseuds/vegraptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cronus, Rufioh, Mituna, and Kurloz. Four rebels in a band, struggling to make it on the Sunset Strip in the 1980's. What more needs to be said?</p><p>(NOTE: There will be references and more graphic depictions of drugs, alcohol, and sex later on. Intended to be Cronkri later on.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out on the Street For A Livin'

**Author's Note:**

> More relationships are in later! Don't worry! The two stupid brothers won't be the only main characters. Cronkri, Rufmara, Rufuss, and slight mentions of CroMeen and PorNus are intended later on.

“I dunno, man. Parties aren’t really, well, my scene, y’know?” He sputtered out, twitching his fingers and picking at the edges of fraying fingerless leather gloves. It was cold. Last time he checked, around March. The whereabouts of 50 degrees, getting very slightly warmer day by day.

“Who is even gonna be there? Like, chicks or what?” Cronus dug a spare cigarette out from behind his ear, making sure not to mess up his hair in the process. He slyly slipped a hand into his jacket pocket, flipping out a Zippo and lighting himself up before just as quickly sliding it back in.

The wind was still. The air wasn’t cold, but not warm. They could the see their breath, but being teenage guys, they couldn’t stand to keep cooped up in their apartment all day. People on the street generally avoided them anyway. Seeing two scarred, leather jacket wearing, smoking, dudes with dyed hair sitting in an alley wasn’t exactly a friendly invitation to come and talk about the weather.

“Dude, why do you care? We’ll show up, get shit faced, and leave. Doesn’t matter who’se gonna be there. But I can tell ya it’s nobody that you hate.” Rufioh slouched, elbows resting on the top of the bench on which they were sitting, fingers idly drumming against worn, waterlogged wood.

The two delinquents sat in quiet for a few seconds, the silence only being scathed by either Cronus inhaling and exhaling, or Rufioh’s nails scraping the bench. It must have been an odd sight- two night crawlers being out so early in the day. Cronus, the cleaner of the two, hair properly styled and clothing kept neat. And Rufioh, with his unruly dyed hair, myriad of random bracelets, all of them almost entirely covered by a flannel shirt far too big for him, and a bandanna tied around his forehead as if to prevent a single piece of hair from touching his face.

“Okay but that ain’t specific enough. Just ‘cause I don’t hate anyone there doesn’t mean I wanna see them either. So if there isn’t anyone worth my time, I ain’t gonna waste my time.” He tried to keep back a snarl, chewing on the butt of his cigarette to keep from snapping. It’s kinda funny how in times of financial stability, people are the angriest. They’re bored, and not goal driven. They need to have fun, but don’t know how.

“Well, here’s the thing. You sit in your room all day writing stupid angsty poetry and doing god knows what else. All I’m sayin’ is that you’re overly reclusive and it’s stupid, y’know?” He smirked and sat up, scratching his leg through ripped jeans. Cronus was growing more and more agitated by the second, and was obviously clenching his teeth to make an attempt to avoid snapping.

Mumbling, he spat out “Well someone ‘round here’s gotta make an effort to keep us relevant.” He was referring to their slowly rising band, The Black Diamonds. And really, what he said was right. He was the brain of their whole operation, whereas Rufioh was like, the arm or something. He only showed up to play guitar when needed, and spent the majority of his time getting stoned with his girlfriend and passing out on random people’s couches.. At least that’s what it seemed like.

“Woah man, we’re keepin’ business and friendship apart here. As your friend I want you to get out more. And besides, when was the last time you got laid?”

That prompted a cocky smirk from Rufioh.  
Cronus stood up, stomped out his cigarette, and went inside.


	2. Love, Lust, and Leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly world building and whatever but hey, well. Whatever. Drug and alcohol mention, and implied sexy times at the end. Chapter two of The Black Diamonds.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was here. At a party, of all possible places. Whiskey, Vodka, cigarettes, lines of cocaine in the bathroom, red Solo cups, and the faint smell of marijuana coming from somewhere in the room. 

Cronus couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t even know anyone here anyway. But of course, as always, his younger half brother turned roommate turned bandmate had to drag him along. Of course. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to please Rufioh, in fact that was far from the truth. He never had any friends. He never had any enemies. He never had any lovers. A stale, dry, lonely existence only to be craved by the saddest of people. How pathetic.

And so he sat, on a stained love seat, staring off into the distance at the lovers, friends, and enemies all having a better time than him. Leaving soon would probably be wise. Although, Rufioh drove, so, that was impractical. Shit. He kept pondering if walking was worth it, before a figure approached. 

“Hey, uh, you’re Cronus, right? The singer for the Black Diamonds?” he heard coming from above him. An obviously short girl wearing green 5-inch heels stood above him. She radiated confidence and promiscuity. Everyone around looked at her as if they knew something about her Cronus didn’t, slightly intimidated to talk to her and envious that he was chosen. It seemed she had darker sense of style, and it showed. A short pleated leather mini-skirt over fishnets with a leather bralette on top, hair slightly curled, with thick winged eyeliner, black lipstick, hair slightly curled, and an array of piercings on her face. Gothier than most of the people that hung around the strip. He could see people like her living up in Seattle, maybe. Los Angeles was a tad odd for her. She took a sip of her, sitting down next to Cronus, daintily crossing her legs and puckering her lips after leaving a lipstick stain on the rim of her cup.

“Yeah, that would be me.” He says, reclining backwards into the sofa and kicking his feet up onto the nearest hard surface- a coffee table. It was an obvious gesture to seem cooler than he was, when in reality, he wasn’t even drinking anything and planned to leave before midnight. Appearances were important. Stay suave, Cronus. The number of chicks you got show whether or not you’re gonna make it in the biz.

“I’m Porrim. I’m not sure if we’ve met prior to tonight, but I frequent the Strip too. So we might as well get aquatinted… Or if you do so wish, insert another lame excuse to come over here to talk to you. Anyway, I came over here because some people recognized you and wanted to talk to you.” She gestures behind her with her eyes over to the corner of the room where a few people stood talking amongst themselves.

He looked back, trying to see if he recognized any of them. Faces are hard, he thinks. You see so many of them yet never forget them. But they change over time. Sighing, he stands up and joins the group in the corner.

Walking over, he assessed his style. His hair was pushed back and hairsprayed slightly, to give off a tough-guy kind of look- but wasn’t an overly cliché no-hair-out-of-place style like some of the guys had in the movie Grease, or whatever. He wore a self-made muscle shirt made out of a plain black v-neck t-shirt, and a pair of leather pants. Most guys around here only had one pair- they were kind of the expensive staples of fashion in the music scene on and around the Sunset Strip. 

Detroit Rock City by KISS played in the background as he walked over to talk to the gaggle in the corner, picking at a callous on his finger from playing the guitar all weekend long. 

“Hey Cro, long time no see.” Said a girl leaning up against the wall. She wore her hair in long braids, which she intertwined between her fingers. She rocked some thrashed black denim jeans with pink and black bandannas tied to her belt loop. On top she wore a stingy looking pink tanktop under a self-made black midriff. He had to admit she looked slightly familiar, and sort of hot in a weird sense. But, in the same regard- she dressed like a rock musician, and probably was one, as far as he could figure. A bass player, most likely.

“You’re, uh, Meenah, right?” He raised his brows and produced a back of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket, hunching over to light one before looking at her quizically, crossing his arms and sensing Porrim walk up behind him.

“Yeah. We went to highschool together, well uh, ‘til you ran away. My mom is bangin’ your dad. And her,” she jabs a thumb towards the shy looking girl next to her. Her hair flipped up slightly at the end, and she was dark haired and olive skinned. If his own ethnic background was any sign, she totally registered as someone of Greek descent. “Her mom used to bang your dad. An-“ Meenah blabbered on, She talked with her hands a lot, rolling her eyes and making expressionate gestures. He suddenly remembered whom she was- the ex-surfer girl who abandoned her talent to do whatever the hell it was that she was doing now. The one he pathetically lost his virginity to while their parents were having a “business” meeting. 

He sighed, raising a hand to his mouth and taking a drag on his cigarette, looking slightly overwhelmed at all the sudden information. The shy girl standing next to Meenah suddenly seemed aware that she had been referred to in conversation, and furrowed her brows looking angrily at Meenah before turning towards Cronus with an outstretched hand. She wore a tight blue strapless dress with a red belt around the middle and red heels, and was obviously uncomfortable- probably not the partying type, he figured.

“I’m Aranea… You may remember me at least slightly.” The shy girl said, raising the corners of her perfectly sculpted lips, eyes also smiling in contentment.  
He uncrossed his arms to grasp her hand tightly and shook it.

And he remembered who the girl was. Aranea. The twin sister taken from him at the age of 13, ripped away in a brutal custody battle when his parents were divorced.

“…Aranea, like… Aranea Serket? Formerly Ampora? As in my somewhat lost twin sister?” He exclaimed, nearly dropping his smoke in disbelief. She giggled and smiled even brighter.  
“Yeah, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I guess since we’re over 18 now we can see each other whenever. And if you’re wondering, mother is well.”  
Everyone looked slightly shocked at this relevation, and chatted amongst himself or herself for awhile, giving Cronus enough time to look around for someone who seriously needed to be in on this. To his left was a guy about foot shorter than him- no small feat, considering Cronus stood around 6’2” barefoot. Porrim gripped at his shoulders looking him in the eye and talking to him about something. He was rolling his eyes, fake talking with his hand as to mock her.

Then he caught Rufioh’s eyes across the room, and shot him a “Come here, bro!” gesture. Rufioh looked down at the girl next to him, his girlfriend Damara, breaking eye contact for a second or two. If one was to guess what went down in that brief conversation, it’d probably have gone like this. “Hey doll, could you go get us some drinks?” she flicked him off, before blowing smoke in his face, muttering something in Japanese and turning to go socialize with other people. 

He eventually came over, ruffling up his hair and chugging down what was left of his beer, looking at Aranea quizzically. 

“You had me come here as some sort of a family reunion, didn’t you.” The taller of the brothers said, staring down at Rufioh angrily.   
“Well… Sorta, I mean, I didn’t think you’d run into her, but uh, that’s because most of the important people already left, so more than likely the ones left are mostly the ones that either A, have some sort of issue with their parents, or B, need to socialize more. Which, as it so happens, seems to be us three great siblings.” Rufioh mumbled, smirking and rubbing the back of his head. He totally knew this was going to happen. Asshole, Cronus figures. Had to go and make things awkward for everyone. 

“Well um. Aranea, I’ll probably be heading out soon, or y’know, to do things I don’t really wanna do around my sister.”  
They all laughed out of awkwardness, looking around and avoiding eye contact. 

Breaking the ice, Aranea copped a hand on her twin’s shoulder, smiling.  
“Well good luck, then. And hey, it was nice seeing you guys. The Black Diamonds, right? I’ll be at your next show, count on it. I guarantee you’ll be like the next Van Halen brothers.” And with that, she pardoned herself out. 

“So it’s chicks you want, eh? I’ve got Dam, so; I don’t really have a need to pick anyone up. Why she stays with me, I’ll never know. She’s caught me cheating on her like, a billion times. But I don’t have the heart to break up with her. But I’m still getting’ something to night so, peace, bro.”

Damara returned- without drinks- and hopped up onto Rufioh, arms around his neck, and started macking on him like there was no tomorrow, leaving Cronus without a conversational partner. 

He felt two fingers lightly tap on his shoulder, and he turns and looks down and sees the awkward short kid in a baggy red sweater look up at him with arms crossed.

“Hey, you’re uh…”Cronus says, trying to put a name to the face, waggling a finger and slightly pointing at him.  
“Kankri Vantas, we don’t know each other prior, and I’d prefer you didn’t point at me. Porrim instructed me to talk to you saying that you were easy to converse with, although she said I might be offended by some of the things you say. I digress, though, because I would be the first one to admit I need to get out more socially.”  
“Uh… I guess she knows me better than I thought. You’re not used to partying, are you?”  
“No and I don’t ever want to get used to it. I find it disgusting and not up to my personal preferences.”  
“I can hear you there; I don’t get out much anyway. I’m usually working on tunes or playing gigs.”  
“You’re a musician?”  
“Yeah. I kinda picked up a guitar and a pencil back when I lived at home to escape from the world, and I guess it worked.”  
“So you have a tortured past then?”  
“Um... Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”  
“Pardon my prying, I just find that learning as much about a person when you first meet them is important. So to share, Porrim is my, well, technical aunt. But we’re both 19. There’s your fact about me. Anyway, I was going to say, congratulations on being reunited with your sister. That’s all.”

He twiddles his thumbs unsure in his sudden amount of confidence. Cronus had to admit it was kinda cute- but in a cute kitten kinda way, not in a cute chick kinda way.

“Well I live like, a block away from here. Its great, I can walk everywhere. Although I drove tonight, because well, it’s cold. But um, I guess, I’ll be seeing you, Kan?”  
“I guess we will be seeing each other quite a bit…”  
He was murmuring, quietly, shrinking down into his sweater shyly. Apparently the stress of conversation had proved too much, and he walked away, blending into the crowd. Not a huge problem. He didn’t seem too memorable.

Then another pair of fingers tapped his shoulder. And grabbed his hand. And led him into a dark room. And found their way into the front of his pants.

Only this time, the fingers didn’t belong to an innocent, socially awkward boy.  
They belonged to a well spoken, well dressed, well figured goth girl.  
Brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to officially make this fanfic my 80's au which I've had an idea for since like, forever, so, it should get better as it progresses. I kinda want people to help me on it, because i intend for it to get smutty, but, I'm not good at that sorta thing.


End file.
